I'm Gonna Getcha Good
by onwingsofsnark
Summary: Princess Hilliary has been spoiled all her life. So when she sees the love of her life, she thinks she can have it. She finds out, in a tragic way, that love is blind to royalty and being the princess doesn't been she has the best of friends. [ONESHOT]


**NO: This was inspired by my mom watching _Shania Twain Up Live in Chicago_ a couple of minutes ago. Kinda funky, by bear with me.**

_I'm Gonna Getcha Good_

I'm a princess, and I've gotten _everything_. Call it spoiled, sure. I am. But, you know what? I _should_ have everything, heck; I'm going to be a future ruler! I _need _everything at my disposal or I won't live my life to its fullest. So, after buying a new dress for the _fourth_ time this week, I made my way to the ball downstairs in the palace Greatroom. Of course, I was wearing (my new favorite) pale orange dress. It was a delightful shade and had delicately sewn lace with petticoats that made it billow beautifully. It loved when I spun in it. I had spent _a lot_ of money on it. That and my hair that was curled and pulled into little ponytails, letting each ponytail have a small, subtle curl. It had taken me all day to get ready for this ball. It would be wonderful!

My friend, Joyce, met me at the bottom of the stairs that I had walked down with so much ease. My high heels were a couple centimeters high. They matched my _beautiful_ dress. "Hey, Hilliary." She greeted. "How was you 'get-ready' time?" she joked.

"Simply _wonderful_, Joycie. Wonderful!" I replied. I didn't notice her wince at the nickname. "What do you want to do?" The music had started during our interlude. My brown-blonde curls spun as I saw movement in my peripheral vision. There was another one of my friends, Jessica. She wore a dark brown dress, _too simple. Too simple_. I criticized. Janelle, another blondie, joined us. She also wore a dark dress, though it didn't accent her curves like mine. It was straight and almost suggested that she didn't want a boyfriend, like me. I don't have one, but being sixteen, I'll be having one soon! "Hey guys." I greeted. I didn't notice Joyce slip away to join some of her friends.

"Hi, Hilliary." Janelle replied. She wore no makeup and her blonde hair wasn't pulled up into a bun like her usual dress. It was brushed straight with no accents, no clips. Her part was perfectly straight. "How was dressing?" Her hair was still wet! If only just barely.

"Wonderful!" I answered, using the same adjective. "Jessica, how was yours?"

"My mom made me wear lipstick." She replied gloomily. "And eye shadow, but I wiped it off. I was going to jump out of the car without it, but she said I couldn't come if I didn't put on makeup." She rolled her eyes. "Where's Lauren?"

"Right here, Jes." A voice said. Lauren was dressed in a lower-cut dress than Jessica (which meant waaay more than Janelle, who by choice, wore a high-cut dress) but mine was the lowest, as always. I positively glowed. Now that my whole group was here, except Emily, who couldn't come, we could get to our idle chatter. Then, maybe, just maybe, a boy would ask us to dance a slow-dance with one of us. We grabbed some drinks and sat at on some chairs, and talked. Until the slow-dance. I watched the dancers. No one even thought about me. Even being a future ruler, they ignored me. A boy sauntered up to us. He stopped in front of Jessica, totally passing me.

"Uh, will you…" He obviously wasn't good at asking girls to dance. "Dance with me?" Jessica, being slightly…well… Jessica-like declined, though in a nice way. He turned to Janelle, still ignoring me. He asked again, obviously more flustered from Jessica's declination. Janelle agreed, with a smile to me. She knew I didn't have a date.

"She's _so_ rude. She _knew_ I wanted to dance with someone. _That's_ why she agreed. Not 'cuz she wanted to dance." I grumbled. Then some other boy asked _Lauren_ to dance, she also agreed. It must be some conspiracy.

"Sure." Jessica replied, obviously not caring. "But I declined. So what?"

"I'm the _princess_!" I whined.

"So, um, what's your point?" She asked, in her "Jessica" fashion.

"You're hopeless!" I yelled. "Boys ask princesses to dance! ALWAYS! In the stories, they _always_ do!"

"If you don't read, how would you know?" Jessica asked sarcastically.

Then, the boy of my dreams passed. He was dancing with Joyce. She simply had the best of luck. Jealously raged. How could she betray me? I had staked that boy as my own! I _would _have him. I _was_ the princess. I got _everything_ I wanted! Stalking haughtily up to the couple, I smiled. Both knew I wanted to dance. Joyce let go, with reluctance. Surprised, the boy took me and spun me around. Joyce went and sat with Jessica and they talked happily, from what I could tell.

"Hi, I'm Princess Hilliary." I started. He smiled and kept dancing.

"I'm Ali," He replied. He had black hair and tanned skin. It was a dream world. "How has your day been, you highness?"

"Delightful, Ali. Thank you for asking!" When the slow-song ended, and another started, he dropped his arms and started to walk away. "Wait, aren't you going to dance with me again?" Nodding (after all I _was_ the princess!) he put his arms back on my waist and we dance a second song. After it, the dance-room was getting hot. I led him, unenthusiastically on his part, out onto a balcony. There was a little bench perfectly sized for two lovers. I led Ali to it. He looked at me funny, then sat down. I sat next to him and moved closer. He coughed. I kept moving in, like a cat stalking prey. Finally, our lips touched. Ali stood up, breaking the kiss. "What are you doing?" I yelled. "Don't you want to kiss me?" I stood up and tried to kiss him again. He broke it.

"Stop." He told me. I stared. Did this boy just try and order me around? I couldn't believe it! I wouldn't. "We barely know each other. To tell you frankly, you highness, I couldn't love you enough to kiss you." He turned on his heel and left. I sat down and cried. I knew I'd been horrid, but I wanted someone to help me, comfort me. No one did.


End file.
